Jukebox (An Albis Song Fic)
by thegunnerxo
Summary: My second song fanfic in my ongoing chronicle, starring my two all-time favorite characters in the entire series, the gunslingers of Fairy Tail! Because what's a better way to first meet then a drunken encounter? Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or the beautiful characters, or the song by The Summer Set!


'**Yeah, life goes on, we got all night; if you got rock n' roll, you're gonna be alright**...'

Alzack rolled his eyes at the song blasting over the speakers of the bar. Some pop culture crap about being rebellious, he was certain. Hiding behind a curtain of inky black hair, he chugged unceremoniously from the tankard in front of him.

'**Friday night at the bar where everybody knows your name...**' _Ain't that the truth_, Al thought almost bitterly. He was constantly being hailed and invited to share a drink, when all he wanted was to down some fine alcohol and stumble home to bed, in solitude. Though he gave off a scary vibe and had a general "_don't come anywhere near me or I'll shoot you in the goddamn head_" kind of thing, Alzack was a fairly shy person, and he just didn't enjoy brushing shoulders with other drunkards.

'**And I don't know what she's doing here, but I'm glad she came**,'

"Somebody was desperate," he muttered to himself, laughing a little. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, it went blank. A sheet of sage-colored hair was bouncing across the back of somebody dancing on the bar, somebody with cheeks so red she had to be wasted. The song crooned on, telling Alzack's story without prompt.

'**In her cowboy boots, up to her little black dress...'** A very little black dress, Alzack noted with a tinge of embarrassment. The boots she wore gleamed in the lights of the bar, and were slick with beer. She had incredible legs, pale and long and muscled-Al could tell without asking that she was a hard worker. Her dress was sticking to her from sweat, and she was holding a hat in her hand. Suddenly, the intoxicating woman turned her gaze on Alzack, who flushed as he was pinned to the chair by clear violet eyes.

'**I need a Jameson shot of confidence, then I'll let her do the rest.**'

"Can I please get a shot of something strong over here?" Alzack called, his voice cracking slightly. He didn't take his eyes off of the woman dancing on the bar. She reached up to her yellow polka-dotted bandana and unknotted it, winked, and threw it at him. Alzack caught it on instinct, his cheeks burning darker than ever. The bandana smelled of gunpowder and horses, and was damp from where she'd sweated through.

A waitress dropped the shot by Alzack's elbow just when the goddess jumped down from the bar, her boots slamming onto the floor. Her eyes twinkled as she reached Alzack and sat, swigging down his shot and grinning at him.

"Howdy," she said huskily, with a hint of a drawl. "I'm Bisca."

**'She's kind of like a scene in a movie, I can hear music when she speaks; she says I can't sleep alone, I really like the Stones, and I hate TV. Well, I must confess I'm a little obsessed with Dawson's Creek...' **

"What's that?" Alzack asked, entranced by the way her dark red lips formed letters and the way she laughed when she talked, or how she blushed when he spoke.

"It's a show, but it's so weird...none of them are mages, and it's almost like they're from a completely different world!"

"You're a Mage?" Alzack asked quickly, leaning forward so that his hair brushed his shoulders. Bisca smiled.

"Hell yeah. I have Requip magic...The Gunner." She winked again as she flashed him a small pistol tucked into her boot. "Don't tell on me."

"I'm-I'm a Guns Magic user!" Alzack gasped, opening a side of his poncho to reveal what he'd been packing. Bisca's eyes rounded.

"Those are real beauties you there..." Her words were slurred again. "Hey, you wanna dance?"

'**Yeah, I know what you think, it's not what it seems; can I buy you a drink?'**

"S-sure..." Alzack stuttered, offering his hand. Bisca took it, her fingers warm and palms rough and calloused. "I'll get you a good bottle of whiskey, I promise," she giggled, leading him words the pounding rhythm. Alzack froze, suddenly remembering something key-he couldn't dance. Bisca looked at him and smiled.

'**Then she said life goes on, we got all night; if you got rock n' roll, you're gonna be alright...so get me one more drink, and play my favorite song; put a quarter in the jukebox and sing along!**'

After a few more shots, Alzack was much more willing to dance, no matter how horribly. They were both laughing as they pressed their bodies together, her arms around his neck, and writhed to the music that played around them. Alzack nodded to the crappy pop song, closing his eyes and inhaling Bisca's heavenly aroma. _This song is really growing on me_, he thought hazily as he and Bisca moved simultaneously against the other.

**'Last call on the round and now I'm seeing stars. We're invincible don't matter who we are. Well a tattooed biker and a bartender got into a fight; now they both sang along to the Springsteen song and they're alright!' **

It had been almost three hours, and somebody had played that dumbass song four more times. Alzack decided it wasn't worth it to grumble, especially when he and Bisca were still glued to each other, so he secretly deemed it their song and sang too loudly to every verse, mangling the words. Bisca would laugh even harder, and then start snorting, and then bring on another round of drinks. Al was starting to wonder if the song told the future, because over in the corner by the jukebox playing the song over and over, a heavily tattooed motorcyclist slammed his fist onto the counter, rattling the glasses, and the bartender shouted ineligibly. Before it became a fist fight, a song started playing that had them both fist bumping and laughing together; Al couldn't pay much attention with Bisca pressed against him and her hair sticking to HIS cheek, where her lips would flutter.

** 'Cause life goes on, we got all night; if you got rock n' roll, you're gonna be all right. So give me one more drink, and play my favorite song-put a quarter in the jukebox and sing along!'**

"NA NA NANANA NANANA NANA NA!" Alzack and Bisca bellowed, throwing their fists in the air. They linked elbows and downed shots of tequila, screaming and grimacing as it went down.

'**If you got a drink put it in the air, here's a toast cause we just don't care! If you got a voice than sing cause life goes on and on and on...**'

Alzack and Bisca raised their glasses, cheering and singing "IF YOU GOT A DRINK PUT IT IN THE AIR, HERE'S A TOAST CAUSE WE JUST DON'T CARE! IF YOU GOT A VOICE THEN SING CAUSE LIFE GOES ON AND ON AND ON~"

**'Cause life goes on, we've got all night; if you've got rock n' roll, you're gonna be alright. So give me one more drink, and play my favorite song-put a quarter in the jukebox and sing along!'**

Alzack gently held Bisca's hair as she vomited into the bushes, the bartender yelling at both of them and saying they'd never be welcomed back. Alzack aimed his pistol, fired, and missed by a wide range-he was so drunk he was seeing double. When Bisca ceased puking on the plants and had rinsed her mouth with water and a bottle of mouthwash she had in her purse, Alzack slung her arm over his shoulder and began lugging her back towards his home. They both fell asleep the moment they touched the bed.

Waking up involved a lot of screaming, blushing, explaining, and repairing bullet holes in the walls. Bisca could barely say a single word to Alzack, who blushed and stared at his feet.

"Um...so I was thinking...you're a Mage, and I am too...so what if we formed a team?" Alzack stammered uncomfortably, staring hard at his boots. "I g-guess we're going to be pretty good friends from now on," he added weakly.

Bisca blushed a dark raspberry color and gaped. "I-I'd love that!" she whispered, her eyes glowing. "We can even join a guild, I've got the perfect one in mind!" Alzack read the flier she offered him-Fairy Tail. They looked amazing.

"We can do that, definitely."

"Um, Al?" Bisca asked timidly.

"Yeah?"

"Can we never talk about last night again?"

"Definitely."

"One more thing, um...have you seen my bandana?"

"Nope," Alzack answered, reaching casually into his pocket and running his thumb over the soft cotton material of a yellow polka-dotted bandana.

'**Cause life goes on, we got all night; if you got rock n' roll, you're gonna be alright. So give me one more drink, and play my favorite song-put a quarter in the jukebox and sing along**!'


End file.
